


Shitty Margaritas

by Garak



Category: RWBY
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Whiterose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garak/pseuds/Garak
Summary: A busted dorm room, miffed team mates, and a massive hangover. After a night out, Weiss regrets waking up, and who's feet are these?
Relationships: Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 67
Kudos: 298





	1. Chapter 1

**Shitty Margaritas**

“ _Come on, loosen up!”_

_“Smile, best friends duo!“_

“ _Weiss, put that down...”_

_“Where are you hiding these!”  
_

_“Mm-mph!”_

Weiss awoke, her chest heavy.

Not in a metaphorical sense, it's amazing how carefree you can be when you put an ocean between you and your family. No, it was a literal heaviness, unusual in that area.

Weiss lifted the covers.

Two pink soles greeted her, toes curling against the inflow of chilly air.

Weiss dropped the covers.

Surprisingly, she remained calm. She could comprehend that someone sharing her bed and using her as a footrest was outrageous. Yet the fuse of her anger refused to light. She considered the feeling of her brain being shucked from her head like an oyster may have something to do with it.

 _At least this cool breeze feels nice,_ Weiss thought. _Wait, breeze?_

Holding her head so it didn't roll away, Weiss turned to the hole that used to be their window, the curtains fluttering in the unimpeded draft. Movement above pulled her attention upwards; tattered remains of ropes swayed, the bed they held curiously absent.

“...” she said.

Or at least tried to. She was pretty sure the Vacuo desert wasn't entirely localised on her tongue, but it sure felt like it. Working her jaw, she managed to squeeze a few drops of saliva into the dustbowl of her mouth.

She gagged.

Her desiccated taste buds sprung back into action at the hint of moisture, gleefully announcing she had thrown up. Or been back to that kebab stall in the fairgrounds Ruby insisted on trying.

The reactivation of her tongue started a cascade effect on her other senses. Her eyes snapped closed, wondering why light decided to be sharp now. Smoke clung inside her nostrils, pungent and unwelcome. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, like bass reverberating from cars low with the weight of their owner's crippling apprehension over their penis size. Everything else was too damn hot.

Something cold bounced against her head, setting off fireworks. The sensation returned, pressed into her temple and rocked her head back and forth.

_Okay, I officially hate this person._

Weiss cracked an eyelid open to the sight of Blake holding a bottle of water dripping with condensation.

_Scratch that, she's wonderful and I love her._

Scrabbling onto her elbows, Weiss greedily snatched the water bottle. Popping the cap off with her thumb, she gulped it down, crushing the bottle in her hand when gravity failed to keep up.

“How do you feel?” Blake asked.

“Like my body is two sizes too small,” Weiss gasped.

Blake raised an eyebrow. “That was... oddly poetic.”

“Tell me about it,” Weiss replied between swigs. “My brain has been spitting out metaphors since I woke up. I don't even know how to shuck an oyster. What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

Weiss' brow furrowed. “We went out to celebrate our first round win, had a nice meal, then Yang suggested we go dancing?” she said.

“I regret even mentioning that.”

Blake stepped aside to reveal Yang sitting on the bunk opposite, hunched over with her head in hands. A memory slithered out of the murky bog in Weiss' head.

“I didn't want to go, but you said the stick up my butt had a stick up it's butt!” she said.

“I wasn't the only one,” Yang said, looking up at Blake. “ _Someone_ said you outsource fun because it's beneath you.”

“It was Ruby's fault,” Blake shot back. “She _weaponised_ pleading!”

“Ugh, words hurt.” Weiss moaned, flopping back down.

“Er, sorry. We may have been a bit harsh on you,” Yang said, rubbing the back of her neck.

“No, I meant they physically hurt. Can you turn the volume down a notch,” Weiss said, draping an arm over her eyes.

Memories of last night slowly sharpened as Weiss focused. They had goaded her to go to a club, her sensible objections falling on deaf ears. It lived up to her expectations – muggy, noisy, and reeking of sweat. Even several hours in her father's company hadn't left her with such an urgent need to shower than five minutes in that place. Then Yang ordered drinks; a soda for Ruby, and three cocktail glasses filled with a pale green liquid that was...

“Salty and sour?” she said out loud.

“What is?” Blake asked.

“Those drinks that Yang brought,” Weiss said, letting her arm slide off her face. “They were disgusting, what did you make me drink?”

“Margaritas,” Yang piped up. “I said they were pretty strong _and_ to go easy.”

Weiss grimaced. “How many did I have? And why did I keep drinking?”

“Three. And the salt on the rim increases thirst while the tart lime stimulates the palate and reduces the bitterness of the alcohol,” Blake said with a shrug.

Weiss stared at her teammate.

“What? I read,” Blake protested.

“Right... So I had a few drinks then passed out?”

“Nah, you relaxed and let your hair down. Started dancing with Ruby,” Yang said.

Weiss rolled her eyes. Or thought she did, it was hard to tell with the room spinning.

“Nonsense, I wouldn't do...that...” she trailed off.

_Best friends dance together!_

Her face grew hot as she recalled jerking Ruby out of her seat, forcing her onto the dance floor.

“I waltzed. With Ruby. People _cheered,_ ” she said, mortified.

Yang nodded. “Yep, that whole best friends duo kicked off from there. You spent a good part of night introducing Ruby to everyone as–“

“ _This is Ruby, my best friend. We're official now!”_

Weiss lunged for Blake's scroll. “You recorded me!” she squawked.

“Naturally. It was cute at first,” Blake said, holding her scroll out of reach. Her face darkened. “Then it got dangerously adorable.”

“While somewhat embarrassing, I don't see how it could be dangerous,” Weiss scoffed.

Standing up, Yang moved to the former window, gesturing with a flourish.

“Well, it's not like we haven't destroyed part of the campus before,” Weiss said uncertainly.

Blake thumbed through her scroll then held it up. In the video Weiss staggered into shot and waved at the camera, almost spilling the contents of the cocktail glass she was holding.

“ _Best friends duo! Whoo!”_

Ruby came into view, carefully prying the glass from her hands.

“ _Okay, Weiss. That's enough.”_

“ _Ruby! Let's go skating!”_

“ _Sure, sure. But first – wait, what is that? Weiss, put that down...”_

There was a flash and the video abruptly cut off. Weiss looked at Blake.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You froze half the club with a pure ice dust crystal.”

“Then ran off with Ruby while we're frozen to the floor,” Yang added. “The owner lectured us, the police questioned us–”

“–we had to clean up your mess,” Blake chimed in.

“–then we looked for you for hours because neither of you were picking up your scrolls. We eventually found you here, passed out after making a few renovations it seems.”

“Perhaps you can explain?” Blake finished.

Poking around in the dregs of last night, Weiss tried to recall what happened after the club. Fragments of memories flashed by; running down the street, the fairgrounds, a bar? She shook her head, stopping when part of her threatened to slosh over.

“No, I don't know what happened,” Weiss said. “Maybe Ruby knows?”

“Well, wake her up then,” Yang said, tilting her head at the lump at the end of Weiss' bed.

“Oh, that's Ruby? Thank the gods!” Weiss said with a sigh of relief.

Blake arched an eyebrow. “Who did you think it was?” she asked.

Weiss paused. “I was hoping for a bad dream?”

A groan issued from under the covers, and Ruby popped her head out, Weiss' tiara caught in her bird's nest of bed hair.

“Ick, was I eating kebabs and Vacuo?” she grumbled.

“Morning, Ruby!” Yang said with alarming cheerfulness. She leaned down and narrowed her eyes. “My little sister wasn't drinking, was she?”

Ruby frowned. “No, why would you think that?”

“Because you reek like the floor of a dive bar. I've poured uncle Qrow into bed enough times to recognise that stink.”

“I wasn't! Weiss just puked on me!”

“I did not!” Weiss said, horrified.

“You did!” Ruby accused. “We were on the ferris wheel and it stopped at the top. The swaying made you vomit.”

“Well that seems highly implausible. Ferris wheels are for–“

“Children and people who enjoy knitting for cats. I _know_. But we needed somewhere to hide after you blew out the back of the shooting gallery with light dust projectiles,” Ruby continued.

“She did what? Why?” Yang asked.

“Because she thought they were cheating. _And_ we were only in the fairground to hide from Qrow, after Weiss found him in a bar, drank his whiskey, and mouthed off at him!”

Another memory trickled into place in Weiss' mind.

“He deserved it, and it was only one glass,” she said with a sniff.

“Yeah, a Qrow sized glass!”

“So you brought her home after the ferris wheel?” Blake asked.

“Not before she tried to clean the vomit off my tights with fire dust.”

“She didn't!” Yang gasped.

“She did!” Ruby said, rolling onto her back and throwing her arms up. “I still don't know where she was keeping the dust crystals, I searched her after the club!”

“Well, what about the window, and your bed?” Blake asked.

Ruby blushed. “Best friends only need one bed,” she muttered.

Weiss pulled the covers over her head to muffle Yang's howling laughter.

 _This can't get any worse_ , she thought.

Her eyes widened as the fog of alcohol evaporated to reveal another splinter of the night before.

_Best friends can kiss..._

Weiss yanked the covers down and stared at her partner. Ruby refused to meet her gaze, the blush deepening on her cheeks. Weiss sought the safety of her covers again.

_I'm never drinking again!_

A smile crept onto her lips.

_But I don't regret everything..._


	2. Chapter 2

Weiss regretted everything.

There's a paradoxical nature inherent in regret; it can only exist in the past. You only regret that extra slice of pie when your clothes fit too snugly. An emo phase was marvellous self-expression, but left a legacy of cringe in the family photos on your parents' mantle.

And kissing your crush was wonderful in the moment until regret pointed out it probably tasted of sick.

That's the irritating thing about regret; it's always silent in the moment, preferring to wait until the next day to present a failing evaluation. Like the insufferable kid in class, regret loved to compare tests to reveal in your mistakes while gloating over their perfect score.

 _And that's what that feels like,_ Weiss thought, regret smugly lecturing.

Pushing the philosophical musings found in a hangover aside, Weiss focused on the furious headmistress before her, leaving her regret to scribble down notes for later.

Glynda stalked back and forth, the metronome tap of her heels rebounding off the hardwood floor. True to her stereotype, Glynda snapped to a stop, spinning to face them. Her crop flicked up and mouth worked to find the words to chastise their idiocy. Failing, she clicked her tongue and returned to pacing, slapping the crop into an open palm with a finch inducing crack.

Weiss wished she would get on with it so she could crawl back into bed.

Swaying, she felt both clammy and feverish. The last of the alcohol in her system had since distilled into throbbing agony. And she was acutely aware that sweating on the inside was not only a turn of phrase. It didn't help that last night's clothes clung to her, smelling only slightly better than she felt.

But still akin to a hobo in a sauna.

Beside her, and maintaining a polite distance, her teammates found a new interest in architecture as they intently studied the ceiling, walls and floor of their dorm room.

 _Wouldn't be a bad career path,_ Weiss thought glumly. _May need a new one shortly._

She glanced at Ruby, still fiddling with the knot of hair holding the tiara in place. Her partner's eyes flicked to her, the permanent blush on her cheeks annexing more of her face. Weiss looked away, her own cheeks heating up.

She had kissed Ruby Rose.

When she was younger and spotter, Weiss fantasised about her first kiss being sappy and romantic, like in the mushy novels Blake hoarded haphazardly under her bed. It wasn't meant to be like the scandalous, trashy page turners that Blake hid carefully in her foot locker.

Her fantasy usually involved a ball – a staunch requirement of little girl musings. They would spin and whirl on the dance-floor, her father's moustache twitching in disapproval – a staunch requirement of little Weiss musings. Heady and breathless from dancing, they would find a secluded balcony, stare into each other's eyes then kiss against a backdrop of shining stars. Perhaps after a song. A musical number wasn't absolutely required, but she prepared regardless.

Weiss furrowed her brow. There had been dancing of sorts last night, and Father _certainly_ wouldn't approve. A ferris wheel can substitute for a balcony in a pinch. They were heady and breathless, mainly due to the smoke inhalation. Weiss wasn't certain, but there may have been singing. And they did kiss in seclusion with the stars twinkling in the background – thanks to the gaping hole in the wall.

But her scenarios never involved her best friend.

Weiss pulled at her dress, sighing. Like last night's cocktails, her feelings were badly mixed. She never wanted a friend until she found one in Ruby. And now she was in love with her? Is that why she kissed her? Or was it because of a drunken stupor that poured out a decade of carefully bottled up feelings along with the contents of her stomach.

Her hangover and regret were positively delightful company compared to the wretched self-loathing moving in. It was the kind of room mate that clogs up the shower drain with hair and refuses to clean it. The kind that bangs on the door in the unknown hours before dawn because they forgot their key. The kind that calls an arborist to perform an emergency rectal stick-ectomy on an irritated heiress.

 _Self-loathing is a lot like Yang,_ Weiss decided.

And like self-loathing, Yang was going to kick her butt if she found out what she did. Not that she would blame her, Weiss felt like borrowing a pair of boots and getting in line.

She had forced her confused feelings onto Ruby.

Weiss felt as low as her father's opinion of unions and pesky labour laws.

Another crack of Glynda's crop jerked Weiss from her internal misery and back into the unfolding external misery.

“What were you thinking?!” Glynda exploded, opting for the classic line used by teachers since the dawn of their profession. “Multiple dust incidents, destruction of school property, _defiling a ferris wheel!”_

“Throwing up on a ferris wheel is not that uncommon,” Weiss said weakly.

“You tried to clean up with fire dust,” Glynda said, rubbing her forehead. “It was _baked_ on. When I left, they were still chiselling it off.”

“Oh...”

“Oh, indeed.”

Stepping up to Weiss' take on open plan living, Glynda sharply jerked her crop. Weiss and her team scrambled out of the way as the splintered remains of Ruby's bed spiralled into the room. Even after seeing it a dozen times, the Headmistress' semblance still amazed Weiss. Knitting the wreckage of the night before, Glynda swiftly wove the bed back into functionality, the ropes holding it up twisting themselves back together. A melody of glass fragments and masonry followed as the window snapped back into place, whole again.

Weiss considered asking her if she could do anything with shattered pride.

Nodding, Glynda finished with a flourish of her crop. “Next time, please refrain from playing architect. You don't have the talent for it,” she said curtly.

“I'll take it off the list,” Weiss muttered.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, Professor Goodwitch. Sorry, Professor Goodwitch.”

“You're not sorry.” Glynda bristled. “Not _yet_.”

Weiss zoned out of the droning lecture, letting the words buzz around her. Not for the first time, she wondered if Glynda was aware she was a walking cliché. Did she follow a check-list for headmistresses? Glasses, pencil skirt, and a stern glower that even had the professors hanging their heads and fidgeting nervously?

Check, check, and check.

“Are you listening, Miss Schnee?” Glynda barked, eyes narrowing.

Weiss lowered her head to stare at her shuffling feet. “Yes, Professor Goodwitch.”

“Good. You're all on cleaning duty for a month.”

The chorus of groans from her team turned into hasty agreement after a sharp glare from the Headmistress. Surprisingly, Weiss found herself raising her hand, gaining everybody's attention.

“Um, Professor? I would like to take full responsibility for the events,” she said.

“Nuh-uh, I did not!”

The room turned to stare at Yang.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Reflex.”

“While commendable to admit fault, the rules still stand,” Glynda said. “When one makes a bad decision, the team is punished. Such is life. Besides, only one of you is old enough to purchase alcohol,”

Yang's expression slipped into practised innocence.

“–one was content to stand back and film,”

Blake renewed her interest in crown moulding.

“–and one didn't contact a staff member for help during the rampage on school grounds,” Glynda finished.

Ruby hung her head, the tiara swinging from the last lock of hair yet to be pried loose.

Weiss frowned. “But I was–“

“ _Enough_ , Miss Schnee. I've made my decision. I'll be forwarding your schedules once I've spoken with the custodians. I'm sure they'll have plenty of extra work due to the festival,“ Glynda said. She narrowed her eyes. “Also consider yourselves on short notice. One more incident, ladies, and I'll pull you from the tournament. Do I make myself clear?”

Weiss mumbled her agreement with her team in a chastened concord. Leaving them with a final glare, as stipulated by her profession, the headmistress marched from the room. A heavy silence settled in her wake, slumping their shoulders. One month of cleaning duty.

It was their personal best.

“So, do you think Goodwitch knows she's a fetish?” Yang blurted out.

“Yang!” Weiss groaned. “Have you heard of subtlety?”

“What? Half of the guys at Beacon want to be disciplined by her. And I'm pretty sure one of Blake's novels has her on the cover.”

“No,” Blake said, shaking her head. “Definitely not.”

“I'm sure there's one, it's called _'A Sigh in the Classroom',_ I think? Set at University Everwood? Pretty sure it's in the stash you keep in the–“

Blake slapped a hand over Yang's mouth.

“You're mistaken,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “My books are hidden under my bed, as everybody knows. Understand?”

Yang hastily nodded.

Smiling, Blake let her go and turned to Weiss and Ruby. “No offence, but you both need a shower. Without the extra ventilation, the stink is filling up the room fast,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Yang snickered. “Best friends shower together?”

“Yang! Your sister's right here!” Weiss said, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Yang!” Ruby piped up. “I'm right here!”

“Get your minds out of the gutter,” Yang said, rolling her eyes. “I didn't mean a fun shower. Besides, Weiss is too much of prude. Couldn't even sleep in the same bed without top and tailing.”

“I am not a prude,” Weiss said with a huff.

“Pffh, and I'm not a natural blonde – don't correct that!”

Ruby shut her mouth.

“Anyway,” Yang continued. “I doubt you've even kissed anyone.”

A creeping blush worked its way up Weiss' neck and onto her face, flashes of last night fuelling it's advance.

“Th– that's none of your business!” she stuttered.

Yang raised an eyebrow. “Holy crap, did you actually get somewhere with Neptune?”

“Who?”

“The tall, blue haired guy you've been making eyes at? Remember? Hits on everything warm with a pulse? Though that does half rule you out...”

Weiss considered her options. “Oh, yes. Of course. Neptune,” she said, adopting a neutral expression.

“And? Did you kiss him?”

“Whom I kiss shouldn't be your concern,” Weiss sniffed.

Which was _technically_ true. Yang didn't need to be concerned. It would make Weiss concerned. Especially about the chances of her limbs remaining attached to her body.

“Yes, Weiss' love life is fascinating,” Blake said dryly. “But the room isn't smelling any sweeter. Go and clean up, I'll deal with the sheets, and Yang will fetch breakfast.”

Nodding, Weiss scurried to gather up a change of clothes. She practically burst through the door a moment later to stride down the hallway towards the dorm's bathroom.

“Hey, Weiss! Wait up!”

Weiss sped up.

Jogging up beside her, Ruby flashed a smile. “Must really want that shower, huh?” she said.

“No, Ruby. I actually enjoy smelling like eau de beowolf.”

“Heh, right,” Ruby said, toying with the tiara. “Um, so, about last night...”

The dreaded moment had arrived. Regret shuffled their cue cards, while self-loathing took their socks off. Her jumbled feelings towards Ruby bounced around in her head, fragmented into a confusing mess beyond any convenient semblance could fix. Thankfully, a Schnee knew exactly what to do when faced with emotional turmoil.

Repress it and pretend it didn't happen.

Stopping before the bathroom door, Weiss turned to her partner. “Ruby, I apologise for last night. I should not have been drinking,” she said.

“Um, yes–“

“It still doesn't excuse the dust incidents or the vandalism,” Weiss pushed on.

“Well, I guess–“

“And I'm certainly sorry for setting you on fire,” Weiss reached and deftly unhooked her tiara from Ruby's hair. “So let's put all of that... unpleasantness behind us, please?”

Ruby bit her lip. “Um, sure, Weiss. No harm done, best friends forgive each other?”

“Of course, Ruby,” Weiss said with a tight smile.

She really hoped that was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I certainly didn't go through an emo phase, and there isn't any pictures to prove it.
> 
> This is a test chapter, mainly to see if the story could be expanded as requested. It was a lot harder than expected, since there was no central conflict to build around. The setting wasn't the best choice either. So adapting a story designed as a one-shot was a challenge. And I have mixed opinions on this chapter. I'm thinking of taking the concept and starting fresh with it.
> 
> Anyway, any feedback will help a lot, feel free to tear into it.


	3. Chapter 3

Weiss considered if there was a polite way to sniff oneself in public.

Weaving through idling students, she hurried through Beacon's hallways, glancing sideways to see if anyone else noticed the sour whiff clinging to her nostrils. A scalding shower had steamed away the layer of grime from last night's activities, leaving her pink and raw. Yet the funk somehow lingered.

Not unlike her uneasiness seeping from the wreckage left by her bad decisions.

Both caused Weiss' stomach to churn around the congealing lump of bacon, eggs, and sausage Yang forced into her. Remarkably, her breakfast was staying down so far, likely due to it's sheer weight. She now understood why her mother preferred a full Atlas breakfast after a particularly serious attempt at draining the wine cellar.

Still, her rush through the campus jostled both the metaphorical and literal lumps in her stomach. But staying in her room wasn’t an option, not with her partner offering a forced smile each time she glanced her way. And Weiss knew a lot about forced smiles.

They were the second most traded commodity a Schnee dealt in after all.

Eventually she needed to leave. Her ability to repress was honed from a thousand tense meals at the Schnee dinner table, but she'd never faced a challenge quite like Ruby. Her father's moustache ticks and terse humphs did little to prepare her for a small, tight smile that didn't reach morose silver eyes.

A quick exchange of messages with her sister and Weiss donned an excuse to leave. Facing Winter with a hangover wasn't without risks, but at least she didn't need to worry about idle rumours reaching her. Winter categorised gossip as the domain of the mentally enfeebled, along with loose hairstyles and cartoons aimed at adults. But she would welcome some comfortable, familial disappointment over the nagging, unfamiliar regret – if only to distract from the shrill voice in her head.

Weiss hoped she didn't actually sound like that.

Ducking out into the courtyard, Weiss scanned for her target, squinting against daggers of mid-morning sunlight. A severe white bun caught her attention, and added more starch to her spine. A practised smile flittered into place as she approached her sister.

“Winter!” Weiss called out, waving.

Her sister frowned. “Good morning, Weiss. Are we excitable today?”

Weiss paused. “Sorry?”

“Waving and shouting like a child,” Winter said. “Perhaps we ate sugar posing as cereal for breakfast?”

“No, Winter.” Weiss dropped into a mildly wobbly curtsey. “It was a... fortifying breakfast.”

Winter leaned in to peer at Weiss. “Are you feeling alright, little sister?”

“Er, yes?” Weiss said, trying not to smell.

“You look a little peaky, have you been sleeping probably? From experience I know how stuffy dorm rooms can be.”

“I find a little extra ventilation works.”

“Very sensible,” Winter said with a nod. “Still, crammed together with three other team members can be a little too... intimate.”

“It... can be. That's why clear boundaries are necessary,” Weiss said.

 _Like separate beds,_ she added silently.

“Indeed,” Winter said. Straightening, she clasped her hands behind her back. “Now, what do you wish to do?”

“Oh, I didn't have anything particular in mind. I guess whatever you would like to do?”

Winter frowned. “Weiss, what have I said about spontaneity?”

“That it's for the small children and cross-stitch enthusiasts.” Weiss grimaced. “Sorry.”

“The daredevils of needlework,” Winter said with a shudder. Weiss was surprised when her sister's face softened. “Well, it can't be helped, my arrival wasn't announced. A little improvisation should be expected.”

Weiss smiled. “It is fine to let your hair down once in a while,” she agreed.

“Let's not go too far, little sister. How about you show me your dorm room? We missed the opportunity yesterday.”

Weiss' smile froze. “Go to my dorm room?” she asked.

“I don't wish to see a stranger's room,” Winter huffed.

“Where I live?”

“Assumingly so.”

“Where my team lives?”

“Yes, I would love to meet them all.”

“Where Ruby–“

“Yes, yes, your dorm room where you and your team currently reside.” Winter narrowed her eyes. “Unless you're trying to hide something?”

“No!” Weiss squeaked, shaking her head. “It's just that... um...”

“Just what?”

“I was just there?” Weiss said weakly.

She braced herself as Winter's shoulders squared themselves and her jaw set into a hard line. It was never a good sign when her sister went all perpendicular. But Winter's attention was focused behind her. Turning, Weiss saw a scruff of a man sauntering towards them with a disdain towards proper posture. Ruby's uncle Qrow. Feeling her own shoulders stiffen, Weiss wouldn't mind going right angles on him either. Triggered by that thought, fuzzy images of a scene in a dingy bar flickered through her mind.

Weiss paled.

Swaying to a stop in front of them, Qrow grinned at her sister. “Heya, Winter. Ironwood let you off your leash?” he said.

“Because I'm the General’s dog? Your jabs are getting lazy, Qrow,” Winter said with a shake of her head. 

“Nah, it's because you're a bit–“

“Careful,” Winter growled, cutting Qrow off. “Least you get clipped.”

“A bird joke?” Qrow scoffed. “Now who's being lazy?”

“I was referring to your manho–“

“Winter!” Weiss interjected, tugging at her sister's arm. “Shouldn't we be going?”

“And who's the mini-you?” Qrow asked. “Ironwood wasn't satisfied with building soulless machines and started cloning them too?”

A small bubble of hope floated up in Weiss. _Maybe he was too drunk to remember last night_ , she thought.

“This is my sister, Weiss.” Winter folded her arms and lifted an eyebrow. “Weiss, this is Qrow. He's what you find after scraping the bottom of a barrel. Assuming that barrel held whiskey.”

“Ah, the singer.” Qrow smirked.

“You've heard her perform?”

“Just once.” Qrow's grin spread wider. “Bit sappy for my tastes, my niece enjoyed it though.”

The bubble burst.

Winter turned to Weiss. “Oh? I didn’t know you were performing in Vale?”

“I’m… I’m not. It was a one off, um, for the festival,” Weiss said over her internal screaming.

“Definitely a unique performance,” Qrow chimed in. 

Weiss shot him a pleading look, he offered an innocent expression in return. _So that’s where Yang gets it from_ , she thought bitterly.

“Well, this is pleasant,” Weiss lied. She selected an apologetic smile from her repertoire. “Unfortunately, I promised to show Winter my dorm room.”

“Oh? I’m heading to see my nieces, happy to follow and provide more pleasant conversation,” Qrow said jovially.

Weiss desperately kept her smile in place while rummaging for an excuse, but finding one that didn’t involve some sort of assault eluded her. Qrow was a sentient insult, even the way he held himself was a provocation. He scratched his chin and Weiss’ hand itched for her rapier. Thankfully, her sister unsheathed first.

“As _delightful_ as that sounds,” Winter parried with sharp sarcasm. “We’ll have to decline, on the account of you’re a jackass.”

A genuine smile tugged at Weiss’ lips.

Her sister performed a quick parade turn, shutting down further taunts from the bemused huntsman. “I’m feeling a little peckish, how about you show me to the cafeteria, Weiss?”

“Um, yes.” Weiss dipped into a habitual curtsy. Ignoring Qrow’s snicker, she beelined for the nearest entrance.

“Yes, a light brunch and a sisterly chat,” Winter said, falling into step beside Weiss. “We’ll go over your performance in the tournament in more detail. I’m eager to hear when you plan to deploy your summoning.”

“That sounds… delightful,” Weiss said, fixing her smile.

Qrow’s offer sounded a little more reasonable in retrospect.

– 

Weiss reached up and fumbled for the lever to flush the toilet. 

She kept her eyes tightly shut until the rush of water subsided before risking a peek to see if her additional meal went down. Freshly scrubbed porcellion sparkled back at her. 

“Ya know, we’re supposed to be cleaning them, right?” Yang quipped from the outside the stall.

“Haha,” Weiss croaked. “Glad I have such a supportive friend.” 

“Sorry. Want me to come in and hold your hair while you ralph?”

“Will your other hand be holding your scroll?”

There was a click and rustle of fabric before Yang responded. “No.”

Weiss sighed. She slumped against the stall wall, focusing on the cool tiles beneath her and not the fact she was sprawled on the bathroom floor. Brunch with her sister turned out to be mostly pleasant, if a little hard on her stomach. Not so much the food (though it certainly didn’t help), more the impromptu training session on summoning. Her hangover would have been a tidy excuse for her… distressing performance. But the thought of never mastering her semblance was already a constant source of indigestion, as if the only thing she could summon was her last meal.

Limited application for that in combat.

Still, the fight for control over her croissant may have been won if not if Goodwitch’s order to scrub toilets. 

“Sure you don’t need help?” Yang asked.

Groaning, Weiss dragged herself up. “I’m fine, thank you.” she said.

Opening the stall door, Weiss was greeted by a grinning Yang leaning on her mop. 

“Feel better?” Yang asked.

“Somewhat, more so after I rinse my mouth out,” Weiss said, making a face.

“Make it quick,” Yang grumbled. “Blake and Ruby are probably done with their cleaning already.”

Weiss rolled her eyes but held her tongue. Striding to sink, she gulped in an undignified mouth of water from the tap.

“Oh, while I have you alone there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Yang said.

Acknowledging her teammate with a nod, Weiss threw back her head to gargle.

“It’s about Ruby.”

Water sprayed over the bathroom mirror. Coughing, Weiss grasped the side of the sink, her lungs burning with her attempt at breathing her sour mouth wash. The dam of distractions she built over the last couple of hours tumbled away, releasing a flood of shame. All broken down with just three words. _She knows?!_ Weiss thought. _Oh gods, I don’t think even Goodwitch will be able to put me back together!_

A hard slap on the back made her splutter.

“Damn, Weiss! When I said to hurry, I didn’t mean to hose the bathroom down! You’re really having trouble holding things in today,” Yang said with another thump between her shoulder blades.

“Tell me about it,” Weiss gasped.

Yang frowned. “If you’re not up for this, then I can finish up here,” she said.

Swallowing against the threat of her breakfast following her brunch, Weiss turned and raised an eyebrow at Yang. “Wh-what?”

“Oh come on,” Yang huffed. “It’s not like I’m enjoying your suffering.”

Weiss raised her other eyebrow.

“At least not anymore,” Yang admitted.

“So, you’re letting me go?”

Yang snorted. “You make it sound like I was kidnapping you. It’s fine, princess. We can talk about Ruby’s birthday later.”

“Well, if you’re fine with– wait? What?”

“Ruby’s birthday,” Yang repeated. “It’s in a week, remember? We need to wrap up plans.”

Sagging, Weiss felt relieved she had a mouth full of water to sputter out, rather than deluging Yang with a clumsy apology and inadvertent confession. “Yes, her birthday. Of course that’s what you wanted to talk about,” she said weakly.

“Yep! But if you’re not up for it…?”

“No, it’s fine.” Weiss straightened and took a steading breath. “Please, continue.”

“Great!” Yang chirped.

With a whirl of her mop, Yang launched back into swabbing the tiled floor, chattering about party plans. Half listening, Weiss attended to the mirror she doused. The monotonous cleaning was improvised meditation, calming her. 

Not quite to the point of cleanly wiping away her misery, but it helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> After an assortment of delays due to a pandemic and a new relationship, I'm determined to get back into this story. I have ending in mind, and there's at least four more chapters, more if required. I also tidied up the previous chapters a bit. 
> 
> As always, feedback welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

Ruby gnawed at her guilt, it smelled of fake lemons. 

She sat on the edge of her bunk, chewing on thumbnail flavoured with bitter disinfectant, while nervous energy bounced her dangling legs against the frame. Protests of last night, waving placards and chanting slogans, threatened to march through the flimsy barricades she had thrown up. A banner unfurled across her mind:

**YOU KISSED WEISS, YOU IDIOT!**

With a drawn out sigh, Ruby flopped backwards onto her bed, the ropes creaking with the added sway. The rocking did little to calm her peeved off conscience. She kissed her best friend. _Your_ drunk _best friend,_ her inner voice snapped. _And you don’t even know why!_

Ruby groaned.

Inner Ruby had been blasting her all morning. Her Uncle’s brief visit to punish them in games – and with gross stories – didn’t help distract from her internal scolding. It was a persistent whine. Sharp and needling like the stab of Weiss’ rapier. Ruby pressed her palms into her eye sockets with another groan.

Even her similes were coming up Weiss.

Ruby rolled across the covers to bury her face into her pillow. It squelched. Dew collected from a morning on the lawn cooled her patchy cheeks. She welcomed the soggy relief. Any relief really. Like when she eagerly launched into their cleaning duty, frantically scrubbing the men’s bathroom to drain her feverish unease, while a bemused Blake watched from beside the weird sinks she said not to touch. Ruby rammed her hands under her pillow to stop them fidgeting.

_Not that it lasted long,_ she thought.

The source of the heat warming her cheeks and kindling her limbs smoldered inside her. Weiss. Guiltily, she went back to the memories of last night, like she was sneaking books from Blake’s stash:

_She laughed, relenting to a giggling Weiss. Her partner shuffled closer then bounced onto her knees, sending a tremor through the mattress under Ruby. With liquid grace, Wiess attempted to crown Ruby with her tiara. Unbalanced, Weiss fell against her, warm arms slipping around her neck. With only a soft breath separating them, she wondered if Weiss could hear her heart’s enthusiastic attempts to batter down her ribcage. Weiss leaned in closer, a whisper parting soft lips, the words lost in the rush of blood in Ruby’s ears. Impulse sparked, Ruby met her halfway and…_

She could feel her pillow steaming.

Ruby had dreamed of her partner at Beacon. They were pieced together from Qrow’s tales of Beacon, often told to her and Yang as bedtime stories he conducted with a beer bottle. After goodnights, she would insist the door be left open a crack to let in the glow of the hallway lights. Not to scare away monsters, but so she can fight them. The light fell onto carefully pinned drawings of grimm and two cloaked girls. Bookmarks of her previous night's adventures.

Picking up where she left off, Ruby threw herself and her pretend partner into all sorts of trouble. A strong partner, brave and fierce. Funny and kind. The type of partner to slay monsters with, then invite over for sleepovers to giggle about weapons and gross boys. A best friend to share secrets with. Someone to fight together with someday.

Which turned out to be technically true.

Weiss didn’t match any of Ruby’s drawings; she’d rather have Jaune hanging off her than a cloak. She was combative. The usual cheerfulness Ruby fronted was parried by the cool heiress. There was an instant friction between them, one that roared into a bonfire after the initiation thrust them together. Literally. It’ll be a few years before that part of the Emerald Forest recovered.

But Ruby couldn’t deny Weiss’ strength, bravery, and fierceness – even if the jury was still deliberating on funny. And they were friends. Best friends. Because Weiss had a warm kindness in her. Under all her pride, on those rare occasions her icy shield slipped away, a different Weiss shined. A Weiss that ran away from trouble with her, laughing until their sides hurt. A Weiss she talked aimlessly with, about everything and nothing. A Weiss she could share a secret with...

_Too bad it was because she was drunk,_ her conscience merrily chimed in.

And she circled back around to self-loathing again. Ruby kicked her bed in frustration, thumping her legs up and down. She never dreamed of kissing her future partner, let alone kissing Weiss. So why did she? Was living her fantasy for one night so enchanting it stirred up other feelings? What was Weiss to her? Her bed bounced on it’s ropes as her confusion thudded into the mattress.

“Ruby? Can you stop that, please? We really don’t need a second visit from Professor Goodwitch.”

Ruby’s kicks paused mid-strike. “Sorry, Blake!” she said, muffled by her pillow.

She let herself relax. At least Weiss didn’t seem to remember last night. 

_Yeah, right,_ her inner voice scoffed.

Ruby pummeled her pillow with her face. Consciences never played fair. She had a whole new respect for the person who came up with the phrase “You are your own worst enemy.” The ropes overhead creaked. _Then again, they probably hadn’t met a headmistress_ , she thought, stopping her assault on her pillow.

She really needed a more impartial judge. Yang sprung up as a potential candidate, then immediately dismissed. Ruby shivered at the thought of her sister’s response if she learned about last night; relentless, merciless teasing. She may as well walk through the halls of Beacon with a kick me sign as a cape and target painted on her butt. At least the students would get bored eventually. But she still felt a need to get… _something_ out. Otherwise she might explode. Goodwitch scolding her while scraping her off the walls wasn’t an appealing thought.

Another sigh slipped from her lips to bubble into her pillow. Maybe she could raid Blake’s locker later, one of her novels probably covered this exact scenario. Without any other options, it was the best advice she could hope for.

Ruby jerked her head up and blinked.

Crawling to the edge of bed, she peered down at the bunk opposite. Blake sat on her bed, propped up by pillows, reading a book. Another option. Ruby took a deep breath then slipped off to land with a soft thump. She took a few haltering steps towards her teammate and cleared her throat.

“Um, Blake? Can I ask you something?”

Blake didn’t look up from her book. “They’re called urinals, Ruby. Guys pee in them,” she said, turning a page.

“No, it’s not th– Wait, what? In _front_ of each other?” Ruby shuddered. “Nope. I didn’t need to know that. It’s another, um, problem. A… romantic one.” 

Bow perking up, Blake was all ears. She snapped her novel closed around a bookmark and put it aside.

“Oh? Does our fearless leader have a crush?” she said with a smile.

“Yes– No!” Ruby yelped, waving in protest. “Um, no it’s… I was reading one of your books from your trunk–”

“I really need to invest in a lock,” Blake muttered. 

“–and I was wondering if I could talk about it?” Ruby asked.

Ruby resisted high-fiving herself. With the way Blake harvested paperbacks from around Vale, there were bound to be dozens she had yet to crack the cover on. Many books still had their price stickers attached. She could tweak the details of last night and claim it’s a story. Easy!

“I don’t mind an impromptu book club,” Blake said. She scooted back and patted her covers. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks!”

Ruby slid onto the bed, curling her feet underneath her. She took a moment to smooth her skirt and collect her thoughts. The prickly memories of last night were wrapped in a thin guise of story; she hoped the edges wouldn’t poke through.

“Um, there’s this girl,” Ruby started, “who is friends with a, uh, a classmate. Um–”

Blake held up a palm. “Sorry, what’s the title of the book?” she asked.

“The name of it?” Ruby squeaked.

“Yes. If I’ve read it then we can skip the plot outline and jump into questions. So what’s it called?”

Ruby paused. “Putting a name to it is the problem,” she mumbled.

“Sorry?”

“Um, nothing!” Ruby said, shaking her head. She mentally rummaged for an appropriately romantic title. “It’s called... An Inconvenient… Flame?”

Blake’s forehead creased. “ _An Inconvenient Flame?_ I don’t remember that one.”

“I’ll give you the rundown then?” Ruby asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Blake said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Ruby said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “So there’s this girl, Sapphire. She’s friends with her classmate, Ebony, a sh – a taller girl with brilliant, um, black hair. Ebony is pretty… cool. Like the opposite of Sapphire. But they get along, right?”

Blake nodded. “Simple enough set up, go on.”

“As they spend time together doing, um, classwork, they grow closer. And Sapphire notices that Ebony isn’t just a cool girl. She has other... qualities…” Ruby trailed off lamely. She coughed then continued. “One night Ebony surprises Sapphire by… revealing her hidden bits.”

Blake raised a sharp brow. “Ruby, if this about sex, then–” 

“No!” Ruby yelped, her cheeks applying another coat of red. “Not those bits! I meant another side of her personality!”

“Oh, right. Go ahead.”

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, pushing down her embarrassment. She struggled enough with kissing Weiss, considering the next steps was threatening to snap her already strained sanity. For the first time today, her conscience agreed with her. She opened her eyes.

“So Ebony revealed her hidden _side_ to Sapphire, only she didn’t mean to. Because she was, um, well it doesn’t matter why. But Sapphire saw a fun side of her, and a softer side.” Ruby unconsciously touched her lips. “Um, it changed something in me– in her, in Sapphire. And now she views her as more than a friend, maybe? She’s… confused about how she feels. You know?”

Blake crossed her legs and tilted her head to stare at Ruby. “This isn’t one of my books, is it?” she asked.

Ruby cringed. “It... is. I’m just not explaining it right. I think.” 

“No, I understand you.” Blake leaned forward and gave Ruby’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “And I’m flattered, Ruby. I really am. But I can’t return your feelings.”

“Um, what?”

“I mean, Ebony was a tad on the nose.” Blake laughed. “You may as well have added a bow!”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “No. No, no, no. That’s not it!” she said, vigorously shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Ruby. If I wasn’t interested in someone else, I’d give you a chance,” Blake said with a wink.

“Nope! You’ve got the wrong idea!”

“Hmm? I do?” Blake teased. She planted her hands and lent in, her face coming level with Ruby’s, a whisker away. “Do I really have the wrong idea?”

“I kissed Weiss last night!” Ruby blurted out.

Blake froze. “You did what?”

“I kissed Weiss,” Ruby repeated. She felt something pop inside of her, like a plug being pulled, releasing her tension. “I really like her, maybe more than a best friend should like a best friend? She’s so kind, and caring, and fun! But she was drunk and not really herself? It’s so... frustrating!”

With a push of her hands, Blake dropped back into a kneel. “That’s… something,” she said awkwardly. 

Vision blurring, Ruby blinked away sudden tears. She choked back a sob and angrily swiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

“I can’t get last night out of my head, it’s all pointy and hot, like a fever. I shouldn’t have kissed her, it was stupid. I hate myself. But I still liked it. _Really_ liked it. Blake, what’s wrong with me?” she pleaded.

Fat tears rolled down Ruby’s cheeks, leaving scalding trails. She tried to force herself to stop but couldn’t find the energy to spare. Slumping over, she buried her face into folded arms. Her lungs burned as she snatched in breaths around miserable sobs.

“Crap, I’m really not good at the comfort thing,” Blake said. 

Ruby felt the mattress shift as Blake shuffled over. A warm hand began to stroke her back in slow circles.

“Should I get Yang?”

Without looking up, Ruby gave a sharp shake of her head.

“You’re right, probably not a good idea.”

Ruby focused on the soothing strokes on her back, letting them calm her mind. Her sobs died into hiccups, then replaced by long breaths as she regained control. She shuddered as her strength returned in waves. Some embarrassment welled up at her breakdown, but she was surprised to feel a stillness in her mind. Her conscience was silent, and the sticky, muggy frustration had drained away. She felt refreshed.

“Better?” Blake asked.

“Um, yeah,” Ruby agreed, uncurling.

“A good cry usually helps. Sorry for pushing you like that.” Blake said.

“That’s alright,” Ruby said, wiping her face in the crook of her elbow. She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t really think I had a crush on you, did you?” she accused.

Blake looked guilty. “Well, no. Someone, but not me. I may have just teased you so you would get on with it. I really am sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“It’s… fine. I think I needed that. And I should have just been upfront,” Ruby said.

“Then do you still want to talk?”

Ruby sighed. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

Blake moved back around to plop down cross legged in front of Ruby. “Okay, time to listen to your big sis,” she said.

“Big sis?” Ruby asked with a wane smile.

“On the subject of mistakes, yes.”

“You don’t make mistakes,” Ruby scoffed.

Blake raised an eyebrow.

“Well, except that White Fang thing,” Ruby muttered.

“Yes, that thing.” Blake sighed. “I really wish I never made mistakes. But life is cruelly linear. What we do in the moment is free of consequences, because they’re always further down the path. Sometimes they trip you up after a couple of steps, other times they lay hidden, waiting for you to catch up before pouncing.

“You can try to avoid them, to push them aside and pretend everything is fine. Or you can fall. The trick is picking yourself up and taking a hard look at what tripped you, no matter how ugly it is.”

There was a moment of silence. Finally, Ruby spoke. “Wow. Was that speech practiced?”

Blake laughed and swotted Ruby with a pillow. “I don’t just rot my brain with trashy romances, you dork!”

“I’m the dork?” Ruby asked, snatching the pillow and sending it back into Blake’s face with a thwop. “Miss “life is cruelly linear” Belladonna?”

“Okay, I admit that was a bit much,” Blake said, tossing the pillow aside.

Ruby giggled. “Just a bit. But thanks, Blake. You’re pretty good at this comfort thing. I’ll give you eight out of ten Yang’s.”

“High praise,” Blake murmured. Her expression turned thoughtful. “You know, not all consequences are bad.”

“Not in this case,” Ruby said with a sigh, her smile fading.

“Well, what did Weiss do? When you kissed her?”

Ruby flushed red and looked down. “She kissed back…” she mumbled. 

“See? That’s promising, isn’t it?”

“But she was drunk!”

“All the better to find out how she feels when she’s sober, isn’t it?” Blake pressed.

Ruby paused. “Maybe, but what if I don’t want to know? Can’t I just apologise and stay friends?”

Blake shrugged. “I can’t help you there, Ruby. You’ll need to figure that out for yourself. An apology would be recommended though. Who knows, maybe you don't have anything to be sorry for?” she said.

“I guess. Just not today though. I need a few more days, or years, to think about it first.”

“Better sooner than later, trust me,” Blake said, her bow twitching, “there’s no time like the present.”

The dorm room door creaked open, and Ruby turned as Yang entered. Her sister raised her arms with a flourish.

“The Yang gang is back!” Yang crowed.

“Ugh, I told you we’re not using that name for semi-finals,” Weiss groaned, following her inside.

“At least sleep on it,” Yang whined.

Weiss gave a noncommittal grunt before throwing herself into her bed. She rolled onto her side and presented her back to the room. 

“Bah, be that way,” Yang said with a dismissive wave. She turned to Ruby and Blake. “Watchas doing?”

“Nothing,” Ruby said with a quick smile, hoping her eyes weren’t too puffy.

Sauntering up, Yang leaned down to peer at her and Blake. “Getting cosy with Blake over nothing?”

“If you must know,” Blake said, picking up her discarded novel. “We’re having a little book club.”

Yang wrinkled her nose. “Book club? Is this some sort of post-punishment punishment?” 

“Oh shush, you don’t hear me complaining about your video games.”

“That’s because they’re fun, dur.” With a yawn, Yang straightened up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m beat. I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Actually,” Blake said, slipping off her bunk and standing, “I’m feeling a bit peckish, skipping lunch and all. Accompany me to the cafeteria?”

“Can’t you go by yourself, or take Ruby?” Yang grumbled.

“No, it needs to be you, because…” Blake cupped her hand over Yang’s ear and whispered something Ruby didn’t catch.

“Oh, that,” Yang said, her tone flat. She sighed. “Alright, fine. Let’s make this quick.”

“Sure, sure,” Blake said, ushering Yang to the door.

Before they stepped out, Blake turned and mouthed a silent _“Go for it!”_ at Ruby. The door clicked shut behind them and Ruby swallowed against a sudden nervousness. Her conscience stirred, prickling her with fear. This time she squashed it down. Then, determined, she stood and padded over to Weiss.

“Um, are you awake, Weiss?” she asked.

Weiss shifted, but didn’t turn around. “Yes, Ruby. Do you need something?” she said over her shoulder.

Ruby hiestated. “No, not really. Um, you and Yang took a while to clean.”

“More like you and Blake were really fast. Do you two clean all those sinks properly?” 

“Yeah, they’re not all sinks. But that’s not important.” Ruby hugged herself. “Actually I do need something. Can we talk, please?”

The tension between her and Weiss sang, and her heart thumped out the passing seconds. She squeezed herself tighter when Weiss curled up.

“I’m really not feeling very good, Ruby. Can it wait until after I had a nap?” Weiss said.

“Um, okay,” Ruby said, her shoulders slumping. She sighed. “Um, after dinner then?”

“Please.”

Ruby stood still, staring at Weiss’ back. She felt hollow. Unsatisfied. Her arms slipped out of the knot she made of them and she gingerly reached a hand towards Weiss.

“Ruby?” Weiss said softly.

“Yes!” Ruby squeaked, freezing on the spot.

“Can you be a dear and close the curtains?”

“Oh. Sure, Weiss,” Ruby said, disappointed.

She yanked the curtains closed, not acknowledging Weiss’ drowsy “Thank you.” After a moment she pulled on her boots, clipped her cloak on, and quietly left the room. The cool hallway air felt good on her burning cheeks. She bounced on her toes, anxious energy filling her legs. An overpowering urge to move, to run, pulled at her.

_Yep, she hates you,_ her conscience said.

Ruby shot down the hallway in a burst of petals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody expects the Ruby intermission. 
> 
> Originally this was two chapters, it's why it's longer than the other ones. Should still be three more chapters to go though, maybe more. 
> 
> As always, comments and feedback welcome!


	5. Chapter 5

Weiss weighed the merits of speaking with her father.

She sighed and sent the call to voicemail, then slipped her scroll back into her skirt pocket. The situation with Ruby was getting, dare she say, a touch desperate. Politeness dictated that excuses must vary, the same one cannot be used again until an acceptable amount of time had passed. And Weiss found her inventory close to exhausted after a day of dodging Ruby. Taking a call from her father was one the few left on the shelf to reach for. Her scroll vibrated in her pocket. Weiss shuddered.

She shelved that option with spontaneous amnesia and spending time with Jaune.

The Beacon cafeteria heaved around her with the lunch rush. Weiss returned to poking at her food, chasing a cherry tomato in small circles with unenthusiastic prods of her fork. Hunger growled in her stomach, pacing with anticipation, but there was a disconnect from her appetite. After she had relinquished her meals yesterday, her lunch was sorely needed. And the aftermath of her indiscretion with alcohol had faded, keeping her food down was more than a game of chance. Yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to eat.

Like a different hangover remained.

Sweating, waves of nausea, and a heavy fatigue that made Weiss long for her bed. Guilt was a familiar companion, her father had introduced them at an early age. But it seemed that guilt had a bigger, meaner sibling. There was family resemblance, yet noticeable differences. Like her lukewarm attitude towards food and other frustrating symptoms. Weiss hoped this guilt was only a guest.

Weiss jumped when a tray crashed into the table with a rattle of cutlery.

“You were quick grabbing food, Ice Queen,” Yang said, slipping in beside her.

“Don’t call me that,” Weiss said with a scowl. “And the line for food not bathed in grease is a lot shorter.”

Across the table, Ruby and Blake slid into place. Ruby flashed her a smile; Weiss offered a wane one in return. Her stomach tightened, squashing her hunger.

“Ya know we’re fighting this afternoon, right?” Yang said around a mouthful of french fries. “You should eat more than bland steamed fish and salad.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. And it’s fine, I prefer something lite before our match,” Weiss said.

“So many don’ts today!” Yang scoffed. She straightened up and adopted a snooty expression. “Ruby, _don’t_ eat with your hands, it’s uncouth!” she said in a haughty tone.

Ruby suppressed a grin behind her burger.

“Blake, _don’t_ dip your fried potato sticks in mayo! A Belladonna lady should only mix nightshades together, use ketchup!”

“Wow, a high brow pun. I’m impressed,” Blake said with a smile.

Weiss fumed. “I don’t sound like that!”

“I don’t sound like thaaatttt,” Yang repeated, layering on a thick Atlasian drawl.

“Yang, cut it out,” Ruby admonished. “You’re meant to be partners today.”

“Thank you, Ruby.” Weiss nodded at her. “And don’t eat with your elbows on the table.”

Her teammates erupted into laughter. Weiss huffed at their giggles, but a smile curved her mouth. She relaxed, and took the glancing blow to her ego.

“Fine. I’ll refrain from trying to civilise you savages,” she said.

“Sorry,” Ruby said, wiping her eyes. “We know you can’t help it.”

Weiss frowned. “Why can’t I help it?” she asked.

“Because you’re all… posh and stuff. I mean you’re other things,” Ruby added hurriedly, “but you, um, can’t help yourself sometimes. You know, can’t help being… posh.”

“She means uptight,” Yang said.

“Yang! I do not!”

“Oh, Ruby? I’m just an uptight heiress?” Weiss asked. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I only listen to classical music and drink tea with my pinky out. Always stiff and proper, thanks to the rod we social elite have surgically inserted.”

Ruby paused. “Inserted? Like… in your butt…?”

Weiss flushed red. “Back, Ruby! In my back!”

“Oh. Did it hurt?”

“No, I didn’t really– ugh! It was a joke!” Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. “Nevermind. The point is, I’m not just a product of my upbringing.”

“I know! You have other bits!”

Blake choked on her chicken wrap, startling Weiss. She cocked a brow when Ruby’s reddening cheeks put the beetroot in her salad to shame.

“What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Blake gulped water from her glass. “Sorry, choked on some… bits,” she said with a cough.

“Uh, huh.” Weiss glanced at Ruby who launched back into her lunch. “Do– _please_ be more careful in future, Blake.”

Stomach growling, Weiss felt famished. With a jolt of shock, she realized that she had fallen back into a comfortable routine with Ruby. Guilt’s big brother wasn’t stomping around anymore, leaving plain old guilt to wave from the corner of mind it set up permanent residence in. Not perfect, but manageable.

Smiling, Weiss picked up her knife and sliced into her fish.

“Um, what’re your plans after lunch, Weiss?” Ruby asked.

Big guilt kicked the door down.

Sweat pricked at the back of Weiss’ neck as she fumbled for an excuse. Thankfully, one was close at hand.

“Oh, Yang and I are going over our strategies for our match,” she said.

“Mmph?” Yang swallowed. “We are?”

Weiss resisted kicking Yang under the table. “Of course, you do want to win?”

“Obviously.”

“Then you’re coming with me after lunch,” Weiss said.

“Should I come?” Ruby asked.

“No, it’s just some dry tactic memorisation,” Weiss said, ignoring Yang’s pained groan. “You should take Blake and watch some matches, get in the mood for our fight later. Have some fun.”

“Oh, okay. Maybe hang out later then?”

“Of course, Ruby,” Weiss lied. 

Stomach churning, Weiss returned to her meal. Her appetite had fled again, but she forced herself to take a bite. 

It needed salt.

–

Weiss stared into the distance, her eyes unfocused, the scroll in her hand forgotten. She shifted in her seat, recrossing her legs. Wooden slates pinched her as pushed back against the bench she shared with Yang. She sighed. No matter how much she twisted and squirmed, she couldn’t relieve the dull ache that settled in her. Or the crushing feeling in her chest.

The autumn air was crisp with the faint promise of winter, and the courtyard around her quiet and free of distractions. Perfect conditions for some light review. But her mind kept drifting back to lunch. To Ruby. For a moment they were uncomplicated again. Comfortable. She craved a return to their usual rapport. She smiled ruefully. After all the effort she put into avoiding Ruby, Weiss desired her presence more than ever.

_No,_ she thought, _I want more than that…?_

“You okay there, Weiss?” Yang asked, leaning forward.

“Hmm?”

“I said, are you all right?”

Weiss shook her head. “Sorry, just thinking. It’s a bit difficult to memorise,” she said, waving her scroll at Yang.

“Your pin number?” Yang asked with a frown.

“What?” Weiss looked down at her locked screen. “Oh.”

Yang stood up and stretched. “Yeah, this ain’t going anywhere. You need to get your mind off the match for a bit,” she said.

“Why on earth would I be – Yes. You’re correct,” Weiss said, catching herself. “The match is distracting me.”

“Figured. Welp, let’s at least do something productive. How ‘bout we check the fairgrounds out for present ideas?”

Weiss raised an eyebrow. “You want to buy Ruby’s birthday gift from a stall? Will it be deep fried?” 

“Haha,” Yang said flatly. “Shops from all over Vale have a stall set up. Even the posh boutiques you like. You know, the ones where you need to swipe your credit card to get in.”

“Not that I can these days,” Weiss said, putting her scroll away.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Forgot about your dad cutting you off,” Yang said, rubbing the back of her head. “Er, if you need to borrow some money…?”

Weiss smiled. “Thank you, but no. I do have some lien to my name, only my card was frozen.”

Yang looked relieved. “Great! Because I’m already borrowing money from Blake.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Weiss said with a shake of her head.

“Because I’m a lovable scoundrel.” Yang held out her hand to Weiss.

“You’re half right,” Weiss said, taking her hand.

Yanked to her feet, Weiss dusted herself off and let Yang take the lead. Soon, excited chattering and the jingle of carnival games filtered through Beacon’s gardens. Exiting through a trestled arch, she followed Yang as they threaded into the crowd, using her as cover when they passed a hastily repaired shooting gallery.

Weiss wrinkled her nose moving past a cluster of food stalls, the smell of frying sweet dough threatening her lunch. Another reminder of her pathetic state. Again, she considered the irony of avoiding Ruby. The more she pulled away, the more she found herself looking back. All her usual repression strategies failed her, which was no small source of annoyance.

She had her pride after all.

But if the tried and true method of skirting around emotional muckiness wasn’t the answer, then that left another option; admitting fault and apologising to Ruby. A shiver skated up Weiss’ back. The thought went against everything a Schnee stood for! A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. She had come to Beacon not only to escape her father, but also to stand apart from him. And as much as she loved her sister, she didn’t want to be her. Yet she continued to play the games of her childhood. Why?

Despite its echoing hallways and cavernous rooms, the Schnee family manor was oddly comfortable to Weiss growing up. The abundant empty space flowed through her. Like Ruby when presented with anything fried on a stick, she offered no resistance. Now she dreaded walking those cold corridors again. She finally had a name for the hollow feeling that permeated her home. 

Loneliness.

Her team, her friends, her best friend. Ruby. They didn’t pass through her. She resisted, and she fought. Gods did she fight! The teasing, their differences, it all stirred her up. But behind the teasing there was a hand to help her up. Differences didn’t matter in the face of friendship. As she settled into her new normal, she had found herself changing. She wasn’t empty anymore.

Avoiding Ruby wasn’t like returning home and playing a week long game of hide and seek from her parents, blending into the emptiness. No. This time it tugged a part of her away. A small, messy ball of incomprehensible emotions she couldn’t put a name to. A part of her that ached. But she couldn’t bear to let it go.

So why was she trying to?

Weiss sighed and looked for a distraction. A stall laden with leather goods caught her eye, she wandered up for a closer look at a selection of purses. She picked up a black leather handbag with strips of crimson leather crisscrossing the surface. 

“That’s cute,” Yang quipped from her shoulder, “but Ruby doesn’t use purses.”

“And it’s about time she learns,” Weiss said, running a thump over the embossed leather. “It’s mortifying when she empties her pockets when she needs something.”

“It’s not that bad,” Yang scoffed. “She does use that pouch I gave her.”

“You mean her snack holster? Also, do I need to remind you of when she used her bandolier to hold tampons?”

“She was just kidding around,” Yang said, waving her off. “No way she would actually leave the dorm like that.”

Weiss turned and gave Yang a flat stare.

“At least, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t,” Yang muttered, looking away.

“Mm, pretty sure?” Weiss put the purse back. “Let’s add it to the list anyway, shall we?”

“Fine. But I want to check out the stall over there next.”

Weiss followed Yang’s pointing finger; a stall across the way glittered with hanging jewellery.

“I’m impressed,” she said. “It’s not something edible.”

“Eh, ya never really know until it’s battered and fried,” Yang said, strolling ahead.

Weiss hurried after her. “Please don’t serve Ruby her present on a stick,” she said.

Acknowledging the cheerful store owner’s greeting with a nod, Weiss scanned the glass display cabinets. Her eyes stopped on an obsidian hair clip. Red and white roses clumped around one end, they shimmered with dust imbued in the metal.

“How much for the rose clip?” she asked the owner.

The stall owner lent over the display. “Hmm, sixty lien for the black one. Would you like a closer look?” he said.

Weiss shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll browse a little more first.”

“Fair enough. Shout out if you need something else,” the stall owner said with a shrug, before turning to another customer.

“What did you find?” Yang asked, peering through the glass. “Oh wow, that’s almost too perfect.”

“Almost,” Weiss agreed, turning her attention to a display of beaded bracelets. “A silver clip would work better.”

“Yep. But I figured you'd be after something like this.”

Weiss looked up at the hanging necklaces. Yang pulled one out of the throng, letting it drape over her hand to display a silver pendant of two hearts intertwining seamlessly into the other. Weiss frowned.

“A Mistralian love knot? Isn’t that a bit much?” said asked.

“I figured it’ll be fitting, you know? Since you two kissed and all.”

There were certain times in Weiss’ life when a moment crystallized. Like using a time dilation glyph, the event moved in slow motion, only to snap back at the point of disaster. That fraction of a second before her brand new porcelain doll struck the marble floor. The time her father’s raised hand seemed to hover over her sister. When the fist of Arma Gigas moved at a glacial pace while she hung helpless in the air. 

And now the carnival around her froze as she processed what Yang said to her.

But no attack inched its way towards her, no crash about to happen. Yang looked relaxed, her usual lopsided grin plastered on her face. As the world sped up, Weiss considered she misheard her.

“Excuse me?” she tried.

“I said it’ll be a good idea after your make out session.”

Nope. She heard her right. Weiss stabbed out with denial.

“I most certainly did not!” she huffed.

Yang rolled her eyes. “Sure you didn’t, Ice Queen,” she parried with sure sarcasm.

Weiss swallowed, her mouth dry. Yang knew something about the other night, but not all of it. The fact she wasn’t scattered around the courtyard was proof of that. But maybe that was the plan? She recalled an incident with Cardin, where Yang was as sweet as honey until she stung.

Despite lacking the parts, Weiss still winced in sympathy at the audible crack.

She glanced around at the milling crowd. “So many witne–people today,” she said, chuckling without humor.

“Eh?” Yang looked around. “I don’t think they care if you're snogging Ru– Mmph!”

“Actually, let's continue this conversation somewhere more private,” Weiss said, her hand clamping over Yang’s mouth.

If it was a choice between bodily harm or airing her private affairs, Weiss would jump the queue for the former. With a push, Weiss herded Yang past the stalls. An empty pavilion on the edge of the gardens caught her attention. She changed direction, towing Yang behind her, only letting go of her teammate to hop up the creaking steps. The greying wooden floor echoed dully as she strode across the floor to the other side. Satisfied with the distance between them, she spun around to face Yang.

“Right,” she said, setting her jaw. “Out with it.”

Yang slowly stepped up onto the pavilion. “Out with what?” she asked.

“With… whatever you’re going to do,” Weiss said, her eyes darting back to the fairgrounds.

Yang looked over her shoulder then sighed. “Sure you don’t want to go back to where there’s witnesses?” she asked, folding her arms.

“I… don’t know what you mean,” Weiss said, resisting the urge to take a step back.

“You’re acting like I’m gonna kick your arse for kissing my sister!” Yang said, throwing her arms up. “Gods, Weiss! We have a match soon, it’ll be a piss poor strategy to eliminate you before the fight starts.”

“Then you plan to wait after the fight?”

“No! I’m not going to – argh! Why would I be so offensive because you two kissed?” Yang narrowed her eyes. “Unless it’s more than that. Are you trying to get Ruby teen pregnant?”

Weiss blinked. “That’s not… how… Oh my gods! Yang!” she spluttered, her cheeks burning. 

“Oh relax, it was just a joke.”

“Why are you not taking this seriously?” Weiss said with a stomp of her foot.

“Why do you think I would thump you for freaking kissing?” Yang shot back. The pavilion shook as she stomped up to stand before Weiss. “It’s like you want to be punished!”

Weiss clenched her fists. “And what if I do?” she said through gritted teeth.

Yang’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I kissed Ruby without her permission!” Weiss screamed. “Without considering her feelings! I just thoughtlessly took what I wanted, like a Schnee would. Drinking is no excuse with the way I treated her. I did a horrible thing. So yes, some punishment would be appropriate!”

Her confession left her panting as her words bounced off the rafters, taunting her. But it was finally out. At least now she would have someone beating her up besides herself. She could use the break.

“I’m sorry, you think you forced yourself on Ruby?” Yang said, her tone even. 

“Yes!”

Weiss expected rage. Cracking knuckles and irises flaring blood red. She didn’t expect Yang’s snort of laughter.

“You’re such a dork!” Yang turned away, her shoulders shaking with amusement. “Like that would happen!”

“Well it did,” Weiss grumbled.

Yang laughed. “Nah, no way. If it went down like that there would be a second Schnee shaped hole in the wall. Oh, and an aggressive amount of pouting. I mean, when has Ruby ever given you a pass?”

The first few explosive days with Ruby drifted into Weiss’ mind. “She can be straightforward,” she said, uncertain.

“Dur! Ruby’s not the one to sit back and do nothing. Or did you forget about last semester? If she didn’t want to be kissed, then it’s not going to happen.”

“But she’s clearly distraught about it!”

Yang shrugged. “Can’t help you there, Weiss. That’s for you two to sort out. But I can say you didn’t force her to do anything. I know my sister,” she said confidently.

“I don’t know,” Weiss said with a sigh. She lowered her head. “I still think you should be angry.”

“That’s up to me, so you can stop projecting.”

Weiss winced at Yang’s statement, but it wasn’t lost on her. Ironically, Yang soothed some of her self-loathing. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I misjudged you.”

“Yeah you did! I don’t know where you got the idea that I'm hot tempered.”

Weiss raised an eyebrow. “You shot the microwave last week because your burrito was still cold in the middle.”

Yang paused. “Oh, right. In my defense that was its third strike. Whatever, next time you can come to me if you feel like beating yourself up. I’ll set you straight. I know you would do the same for me. That’s what friends do.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Weiss said with a wane smile.

“You better!” Yang grimaced. “Just go easier on the details. I really don’t want to know how good Ruby is with her tongue.”

Weiss threw her head and groaned. “And the moment is ruined.”

A chime sounded, followed quickly by another. Fumbling for her scroll, Weiss opened it with a snap to read the alert.

“Crap,” Yang said, her scroll in her hand. “We got to go, our match is in thirty.”

Weiss nodded. “The airfield isn’t far if we cut back across the gardens.” she said, striding down the stairs. 

She broke into a comfortable jog, Yang falling in beside her. Weiss peered sideways at her teammate. 

“How did you know I kissed Ruby?” she asked.

Yang laughed. “Ruby was acting like the time she stained Mum’s cloak and I took the blame. She looks like she’s going to explode when she has a secret. But I figured it was the sip of margarita she took when she thought I wasn’t looking. It was you that gave it away,” she said.

“Me?” Weiss said, shocked. “What did I do?”

“You mean besides the sighing, longing looks, and the excuses not to be alone together?”

Weiss stumbled. “That… that could because we had a fight! I did set her on fire!” she protested.

“Nah, you either kissed or Ruby took up knitting.”

“Great, I’m an open book,” Weiss said bitterly. “I assume Blake also knows?”

“Blake? Doubt it,” Yang said with a slight chuckle. “For someone building her own library, she ain’t good at reading subtext. Trust me.” She glanced at Weiss. “Speaking of which, do you read all of Blake’s romance novels or just skip to the good parts?” she asked.

Weiss looked away. “I read them. And what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing,”

The airfield came into view, and they ran over to join a line boarding a waiting airship. Now that the match was looming, Weiss felt keenly under-prepared. _At least we got a warm up,_ she thought _,_ breathing lightly. She looked up at the arena, drifting overhead like a chunk of the moon. Her heart felt like a tightening knot, but not with the impending match. Win or lose, she would be meeting up with Ruby shortly. Weiss ached at the thought. 

With anticipation or dread, she couldn’t be sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The best part about writing fantasy is all crazy ideas you can come up with. Like pockets on skirts.
> 
> This chapter was shorter in my head, I think it does need an editor. Finding a balance between humor and the serious is also quite delicate. Not sure if I pulled it off.
> 
> Feedback and criticism always welcome!


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